Simmons ships Skimmons
by R. R. Grokesyn
Summary: Simmons is a natural born fanfiction writer assumption (from T.R.A.C.K.S. background story, in canon). So what if she does write all her fantasies in a notebook she keeps in her bunker? And what if Skye gets all suspicious about its contents?


"Simmons! Dinner's ready!", Skye opens the door to the bunker rather abruptly. The girl, who's sitting on her bed with a notebook on her lap and a pen in hand, freezes.

"I'll be right there, I just have to finish this… exercise.", Simmons says. But something's off. Skye recognises this expression of absolute terror. Hm… ha! From the encounter with Sitwell! When she was… lying about something.

"So it's true.", Skye throws vague to see if the girl makes a slip.

"I don't know what you're talking about!", Simmons shutters. There's definitely something there.

"You do love homework more than life itself.", Skye gives her a smug smile, "now hurry up, I don't want to reheat dinner. Again.", and she closes the door.

"Fitz! You're just who I was looking for!", Skye says all cheery and Fitz immediately suspicious, "Have you ever seen Simmons with a black, thin notebook…", his eyes get wide.

"What? She showed you that? She never, ever let me even touch it!", he's pissed and she's surprised.

"Wow, wow, calm down. And shush.", she lowers her voice, "just seen her with it. She told me she was doing an exercise, but I call it bullshit."

"It is, she keeps her academy notebooks at the lab, and all of them are thicker than the bible.", he whispers – well, tries to. He's not great at it, to put it mildly.

"We have to get it"

"We have?"

"Yes! She's hiding something from everyone there – even you! What if it's something big?"

"Oh, my, you're right! What if she's actually Hydra?", Fitz's face loses colour. Skye would tell him there's no way in hell that Simmons is a double agent, but it serves her purposes to let him think otherwise, especially after he turns to her and says: "we have to get that notebook, Skye!"

"Right, so here's the plan:", Skye says after they both moved to her bunker, "you distract her, I'll take the notebook and see what she hides there. Try to buy me as much time as you can, Fitz, if she finds out, she's going to be furious with me. And I never have seen Simmons furious, but I have a feeling I won't like it"

"I have. It's… scary.", his gaze lowers and he seems captivated by the memory – Skye, in turn, scowls at her failed attempts to imagine scary Simmons. "But why me doing the distracting? You're suppose to be better at this!"

"True, but I don't have that much conversation with Simmons. Not enough to by loads of time, anyway. And I'm stealthier than you.", Fitz purses his lips, acknowledging Skye's impeccable argument. "Now go, go, go!", she shoos him from her room.

Skye sits in her bed, laptop on her lap. She idles on Facebook and eavesdrop the conversation.

"Simmons!", Fitz sounds nervous, and completely unnatural.

"Hi, Fitz.", Simmons replies cheerily. Skye can hear her broad smile in the tone. It makes her let a small grin escape.

"So… uh… I was working on that project…", damn it, Fitz, can you be worse at this? "the cloaking device. I had somewhat of an idea, but I can't get it right. I've been doing calculations all afternoon but…", he trails off his rambling.

"You're actually asking for my help?", she says, incredulous.

"Yes.", he sounds defeated. "I mean, I think I can do it on my own, but given the urgency of it… I think it might go faster if we discussed it.", Skye narrows her eyes, and smirks a bit. She never noticed how incredibly proud Fitz was, and making him swallow his pride for the sake of the scheme was a bit priceless.

Skye hears the both of them walk away from the pod. Perfect. She leaves the laptop on the bed and tiptoes to Simmons' pod. The bed is neatly made, even though Skye was quite sure Simmons was sitting there a minute ago. Her eyes scan the room – well, it can't really be called a room, but whatever. No sight of the bloody notebook. Skye then opens the nightstand's drawer, and there it is.

She picks it up carefully – given Simmons' expression and shielding of the item when Skye saw her with it, it must be precious. She firstly skims through the pages, noticing the pleasant pastel tone of the pages and Simmons neat handwrite. In fact, even without reading, the notebook makes her smile, because every written page is so much like its owner: the cursive is classy, but precise; every entry was dated in the exact same manner – full name of the month, then day, year, and finally, the place that the entry was written; heck, even the mistakes were clean, with a single, straight strikethrough the wrong word. Skye notices it all and she's grinning idiotically, without even realising it.

She then remember she's on a mission, which makes her flip to the first page and start reading: "She looks at me again through Lola's windshield, and I feel my cheeks burning. I don't think she realises I caught on all her attempts at discreet glances. Having her right in front of me, even separated by a glass, makes me hyperaware. I almost can't focus.", Skye takes a deep breath. Hell, she didn't even know she looked at Simmons so much. Does she? She also feels sort of horrible she's reading something that resembles Simmons' journal, but she can't tear herself from it, so she continues.

"It's been happening all week now, those stares. I always wonder if they mean something, but maybe I'm misreading everything with all this wishful thinking.", Skye rereads the phrase, just to make sure she's not hallucinating. Wishful thinking? No, it can't be… "She walks lazily towards the lab and my breath is anything but natural. She's got that toothy smile of hers plastered – I wonder if she realises how adorable she looks.", yes she does, Simmons – Skye smiles smugly to herself. "She leans on the doorframe and I try to hide the particularly long gaze I send in her direction. She looks so bloody sexy almost it's criminal. 'You should go to bed', she says, rather nicely, unlike the thoughts that follow in my head. I swear the blandest took the simple remark as an invite. She studies me curiously while I stupidly try to conjure an answer – a non-sexual one, that is – to her comment. A lame 'I guess' and an eye contact break is all I manage. Still, she approaches, not an ounce of confidence lost. I look up, and I become startled by her sudden closeness. Or that mischievous smirk that replaced the sweet grin. 'You look adorable when you blush.', she whispers – oh dear, I freeze in place. 'it can be an invitation, if you want.', she leant into my ear, and her hot breath clouds my judgement completely. Not that it's needed, since she just uses her proximity to kiss my ear, and my neck… it doesn't take very long until we're making out against my workbench. 'Skye…', I try to prevent her from removing my lab coat, 'not here, it's completely unsanitary' – possibly saying that, in between moans, is the hardest thing I've ever done. She pulls back and chuckles, her hair a bit of a mess. I know, my fault. I'm not sorry, not even a tiny bit. 'Come on, then, I'm not letting you off the hook so easily', she winks and takes my hand. 'I wouldn't expect less of you', I say before taking it.".

Skye stares blankly at the notebook for a minute or two, registering what she just read. Her breath is uneven, and suddenly the pod became bloody hot. She didn't see it coming, this crush Simmons apparently has. Not that she never had given the girl some thought. She'd given Simmons, sexily Brit goody two shoes Simmons, more than a couple of thoughts; and a couple more orgasms derived from those thoughts. Never she thought the girl would reciprocate, let alone have it written in leather clad pages.

She sits down and turns to the next entry in curiosity:

"I frequently watch her training. Not exactly watch, explicitly. More like take a peek or two. Maybe a handful. I can't really help myself, as her determination frown makes me imagine… things. Her skin glisters with sweat and she stops to retie her ponytail. It exposes the back of her neck and it takes me a while to notice I'm staring indiscreetly. I need a break. Alternatively, I need her sweating elsewhere. Preferably with me on top of her, but I'm open to the other way round as well.

An idea strikes me – I take some bandage and approach her carefully. She notices, gives me a weak smile and a non committal greeting. 'You're going to end up injuring yourself, Skye', I try my best doctor tone. It obviously work, since she's sighing and rolling her eyes. 'Here, let me redo your bandages – these aren't protecting your knuckles anymore.'. She extends her hand absentmindedly, and studies me as I rewrap it. I repeat the process on the other, and she still has that curious slash suspicious look on. 'There you go.', I smile and caress her arm. 'Thank you. I'd hug you, but I'm kind of gross after all the training.', she rambles and I smirk a little, 'I'm not one to mind bodily fluids.', I say and she's a bit shocked. Because it sounds like a flirt, which was fully intentional. 'Well, in this case…', she opens her arms in an invitation which I promptly accept. And again we have one of these longer than acceptable hugs. I bury my head on her neck and resist the temptation of kissing it. Instead, I let out a little moan, but it's enough to shift the gears in her head. She pulls back, looks at my eyes, then my lips. I silently agree by doing the same…"

"Oh, my God!", it's a half gasp, half shriek that comes from the door. Skye's eyes shoot up. Simmons. She got so entranced in the story that she completely forgot she was supposed to leave as soon as she found out what Simmons had been hiding. Well, fuck. "Skye! You can't just waltz into people's room and read their private…", in a swift movement, Skye cuts her with a kiss. She pulls back and grins dumbly at Simmons, who's in complete shock. Fitz, who Skye just noticed is just behind her, mimics.

"So, yeah, can we talk?", Skye says adorably. Simmons, still incapable of uttering words, nods. "Sorry, Fitz, private talk.", she pouts at the boy and he snaps out of whatever trance seeing the kiss put him. He scurries away and Skye closes the door.

"As I was saying, this is completely unacceptable…", Skye puts her index finger to the girl's lip and she gaps her mouth in indignation. She leans in to kiss the girl's cheek.

"I'm not sorry.", she whispers as she pulls away. "Not even a tiny little bit sorry.", Skye's big eyes are staring back at Simmons intently. The girl, in turn, is clearly nervous.

"Skye, this is not right! You can't read my private notebook because… of whatever reason you think you have.", she sounds more defensive than angry.

"Would you have told me?", Skye asks, and a shy 'no' is the answer. "Then I'm not sorry.", she states, resolute. Simmons merely stares at her. "You're a great writer.", Skye smiles, offering Simmons the notebook back. "I always thought of you as a FitzSimmons shipper, though.", she observes idly. "But Skimmons is the better option. Obviously. Best option.", she gives Simmons that toothy smile.

"You're a Skimmons shipper?", Simmons tries to keep herself from grinning. Tries to remember she's pissed at Skye for reading her private notebook. Instead she bites her lip and Skye smirks.

"You're kidding, right? Skimmons is totally my OTP", and she pulls the girl close into a series of kisses that isn't ending anytime soon.

Later, both cuddle in the shared bed. "Hey, can we read some of your stories?", Skye asks and Simmons looks puzzled at her. "I meant it, you're good."


End file.
